Hypothetically Speaking
by Kitty le Fay
Summary: "Can I ask you something?" she asks. He nods. "Would you sleep with me?"


"Can I ask you something?" she asks. He nods. "Would you sleep with me?"

The question comes completely out of nowhere. Only a minute ago, they were counting the bullet wounds on a teenaged boy's body, then the question practically jumps out of Molly's mouth as if to willingly fall to its death. Greg nearly chokes on his coffee and coughs out what he's swallowed the wrong way.

"What?"

"I mean," she stammers. "I…I-I-I don't mean…I'm n-not asking you to _actually_ sleep with me, I just…er…I mean, hypothetically speaking, let's say we were going out, things were going really well, but maybe I'd want to take my time before…jumping in, so to speak. Not that I wouldn't want to, of course, I'd just prefer to take things step-by-step. Would you sleep with me?"

He struggles to find the words he is looking for, stuttering like an idiot in attempt.

"Well," he finally manages to say. "I-if we're speaking hypothetically, then…er…I'd say…well, yeah, I suppose so."

"Okay…good."

Awkward silence. Speak, they secretly beg. Someone, speak. Someone, say something.

"What brought this up?" Greg asks.

Molly's cheeks go red. "Oh, I…I suppose I just wanted a man's honest opinion."

"Okay."

Another awkward silence. Speak. Say something.

"Actually," he says and she is quick to respond. "If we're talking of honesty…say–hypothetically speaking, of course–we have a good relationship, there's a bit of flirting here and there, maybe even bit of fooling around, but things keep getting in the way. You know, work, family, etc. Would you sleep with me?"

The thought turns her cheeks to a deeper shade of red. "Um…hypothetically, yes. I'd say so."

"Okay…good."

Yet another awkward silence. Someone. Speak. Say something. Say anything.

Greg is an atheist, but he thanks every god and goddess he has read about for the tri-tone that signals a text from Sherlock.

* * *

"Can I ask you something as well?" he asks. She nods. _"_ _Why_ would you sleep with me?"

She is eating lunch and drinking tea over a book when he asks her this and while it is not as shocking a question as the one she had asked him this morning, it still manages to take her by surprise. Her stomach jolts when he sits across from her with a coffee in hand.

"Um…"

"I mean," he explains, "hypothetically speaking, if we were in a certain scenario, _why_ would you sleep with me? Would you do it because you genuinely want to or would it just be out of pity?"

"Pity?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not sure what you mean by that."

"Well, I _am_ divorced, my work schedule tends to take over and I'm not as fit as I used to be. Would that play a role in you sleeping with me?"

Everything that he has listed down about himself startles her. For a moment she wants to smack him for saying such things about himself, but she holds back.

"Well," she begins. "If I _were_ to sleep with you, I suppose it would be because you're kind, you're funny, you're good at your job, you're better-looking than you think you are and you've only had one divorce. Anyway, you're not the only one here who's had a relationship end badly."

Greg looks to Molly with a furrowed brow as the ego boost suddenly falls. It only takes a moment for him to realize who she's talking about.

"Oh, shit," he says. "Christ, Molly, I'm so sorry. I forgot."

"It's okay, really."

"No, I mean my ex only had an affair and yours…well…"

"Terrorized the city, I know."

There is another awkward silence between them, but he refuses to let it grow.

"Hey," he says, feeling the strange need to hold her hand. "If it makes you feel any better, if _I_ were to sleep with you, it wouldn't just be because you're as kind, beautiful and honest as you are, it would be because you're brave."

"Brave?"

"Yeah," he continues. "I mean, you were the one that ended it with Jim and you _did_ help someone to fake his death and you did a damn good job at hiding it for a good two years. I'd say that's pretty fucking brave."

The word is almost alien to her. She has been called many different names, many of which have stuck her throughout her growing years. Brave was never one of them, nor were kind, beautiful or honest.

"Wow," she says. "Um...thank you."

Greg smiles and pats a comforting hand on Molly's shoulder before lunch is over and they go their separate ways. It takes all her strength to keep from smiling throughout the afternoon.

* * *

"Can I ask you something else?" she asks. He nods. "Who _are_ you sleeping with...or not sleeping with, should I ask?"

They are at the pub. He has just brought his lager and her merlot from the bar. Surprisingly, he does not choke on his drink this time. He just smirks.

"Why," he asks. "Are you jealous?"

"No," she half-lies. "I just thought…well, the hypothetical situation you were talking about this morning seemed a bit…specific."

"So was yours."

"Maybe. So, who is it?"

The smile on Greg's face is both thoughtful and unsure. "It's nothing serious," he says. "There's someone at work. We've gone out for drinks a couple of times and…well, things tend to get in the way of an actual relationship happening."

"Oh," she nods, understanding. "Do I know her?"

Greg just shrugs and takes another swig. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Who are you sleeping with…or not sleeping with, should I ask? Who's the lucky devil?"

Molly suppresses a smile as she thinks of last night's date. "I don't think you know him," she says. "We've gone on a few of dates, but we haven't really put a label on it or anything. He's nice and all, but he's…well…"

"Forward?"

"Yes," she sighs. "You could say that."

Greg frowns as he watches Molly take an unusually large swig of.

"I see," he growls. "Do I need to arrest the guy?"

"No, of course not. He hasn't hurt me or anything, he just…oh, I don't know, maybe we're just looking for different things."

"What are you looking for, then?"

Molly smiles weakly. She has the strong feeling that she'll regret spilling her heart out to a friend, particularly one like Greg, but oh well.

"I suppose," she begins. "I'm looking for someone who can be just as good a friend as they can be a partner, you know? Someone who's kind, caring, loyal, funny…someone who won't mind if I cry at the drop of a hat or laugh at the silliest things."

There is something warm and understanding about Greg's smile that makes her feel strangely at home. "Sounds like this bloke doesn't quite match that description," he says.

Molly shakes her head. "Know anyone who does?"

Greg shrugs again. "Why don't I keep a lookout, eh?"

"Sounds good."

The drink to it and finish off their glasses before ordering one more round.

* * *

"Can I ask you one more thing?" he asks. She nods. "Do you want to sleep with me?"

He is walking her home from the pub. It is getting dark and he will not let a pretty lady walk home alone in the dark. This time it is her turn to be startled by the question and she stops on her tracks, nearly rendered speechless.

"I…I'm sorry?"

"Do you want to sleep with me?" he repeats. "And I don't mean hypothetically, I'm asking if you genuinely want to sleep with me."

"Oh…I…I thought you were seeing someone."

"I never said that."

"But you were saying this morning that you were and that things like work and family were always getting in the way."

"They are. I never said I was going out with her."

"So you've just got your eye on her, then?"

"Yeah."

"Does she know?"

"No. She always seems to go for someone else."

"Oh. Well, who is she, then?"

Greg says nothing. His only answer is a look that does not leave her eyes for a second. She stammers when the realization hits her like a ton of bricks.

"You…b-but you…I…what?"

"I've been hoping you'd figure it out," he finally says.

"But…you mentioned flirting. We've never flirted, Greg."

Greg shrugs with a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "What do you call that conversation at the pub?"

"Um…well…I dunno, but you mentioned fooling around too and we've never fooled around."

He steps closer, practically closing in on her, as he leans in and whispers: "I did say 'maybe.'"

She turns to look him in the eye. "Yes," she said. "You did, didn't you?"

He nods. He takes a moment to look around before taking her hand and backing her against an alley wall, cornering her. She does not stop him. His face is so close to hers that she can feel his breath on her lips. She can feel the heat of his body warming her up and finds herself wanting more. For a moment she thinks that he is going to kiss her, but he does not.

Instead, he lowers his head to her neck, his breath warming her skin before marking it with a deeper kiss than she's ever gotten from anyone in that place. A cool thrill unfurls from the pit of her belly and rushes through her body. She shudders when she feels his left hand on the small of her back and the right on her waist, the latter slowly creeping its way into her jacket and under her blouse. Before long she feels dizzy from excitement as she feels a hand between her legs. His hands are warm and his mouth hot. She tries to bite back her moan, reminding herself that they are outside and could be caught by anyone, though she cannot help but feel thankful that his jacket is large enough to hide his growing hardness.

She moans in disappointment when he stops.

"I think," he says, "this counts as fooling around, don't you?"

A strange surge of confidence rushes through her and she smiles. "Not quite yet," she says and stands on tiptoe, takes hold of his jacket and kisses him.

It is nothing like a first kiss at all. He kisses her as though he has been doing so for years and touches her as though he knows every little place on her body that makes her knees weak. His hold tightens on her waist and he smiles when they part for air.

"You have no idea," he says, "how long I've wanted to do that."

They laugh and she kisses him again, though their second kiss is much more chaste than the previous.

"I think I'm getting the idea," she says with one more kiss.

"And so I must ask again," he says.

She nods and asks for him: "Will you sleep with me?"

Greg's only answer is a smile and a nod, giving her one last kiss before they reach her flat.


End file.
